Something Worth Fighting For
by thechosenone629
Summary: A missing moment at Shell Cottage. Hermione tries to cope with her torture and Ron is there to help her find her way. 3 Romione fic 3
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I do not own anything in this story, except the plot. All characters, basic concepts, and the Harry Potter world belongs to J.K. Rowling.

**Something Worth Fighting For**

**Chapter 1**

Ron slammed into the hard-packed sand. He felt something fall out of his hands and realized that he had dropped Hermione from the impact of apparating onto the beach at Shell Cottage. Ron's vision suddenly went blurry; the only thing he could see was Hermione's pale, thin body, collapsed at his feet.

Ron immediately dropped to his knees and scooped up Hermione's fragile frame. He ran as fast as he could in the general direction of Shell Cottage. His ears were pounding, his breaths were ragged, and his lungs were burning. His thoughts were traveling a mile minute, a continuous stream of prayers and pleads:

_Hold on 'Mione, we're almost there, keep fighting. Stay with me, please stay with me. Don't die. Oh God, please don't die. I don't know what I'll do if—_

But at that moment, Ron reached the wooden door of Shell Cottage, which looked almost white in the milky moonlight. Because his hands were occupied by holding Hermione tightly to his chest, he started kicking the door as hard as he could, praying Bill and Fleur would come to the door and help him save his best friend.

The door whipped open. Bill, who was wearing a worn nightshirt and whose hair was disheveled from sleep, looked frazzled as he took in the sight before him.

"Ron, what are you-?"

Ron interrupted him and hurriedly made his way into the living room of the cottage.

"Bill, you've got to help me-" Ron said between ragged breaths, "Hermione—help—she's hurt—help—hurry!"

At that moment Fleur came rushing into the room. She was wearing a silk robe that made her look more iridescent and beautiful than her Veela blood already made her.

"Bring 'er upstairs. I 'ave potions dat weel help 'er. Quickly! In ze room you used when—"

She didn't even get the chance to finish. Ron bolted upstairs, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and his arms clutching Hermione's too-cold body against his. He kicked open the door to the spare room he had used when he had abandoned the horcrux hunt just weeks before. He looked around the room- at the open window near the bed where the sea breeze was blowing the thin curtains softly towards him. He also saw the neat white sheets of the bed he had tried to sleep in while he was away from the hunt. During those weeks, Ron couldn't force himself to sleep. His guilt, shame, and especially his thoughts about how much he had hurt Hermione…and Harry of course….. had continuously gnawed at his stomach, and he was always feeling too hollow and empty to fall into a slumber.

Ron snapped out of his reverie and briskly walked across the room, where he gently laid Hermione on the bed. He felt her neck for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. Ron let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

Suddenly, the reality of everything that had just happened started crashing down on him. Ron lifted his hand to wipe fresh tears off of his cheek. Why? Why did this have to happen to them? Why did they have to be the ones to find the horcruxes and take down the most evil wizard known to the magical world? They've already been through so much hardship, and they were only barely adults. And why did it have to be Hermione who was tortured? Why couldn't it be him? Ron sobbed as he took Hermione's bloody hand in his. He would have done anything to not let this happen to her. He would have taken her place in a heartbeat. She was his rock, always the one telling him that everything was going to be all right, always telling him that there was a logical solution to everything.

He smiled as he thought of all the times she nagged him to do his potions essay before the day it was due, to stop stuffing his face with as much food as he possibly could. He thought of the way she would smile at him when she didn't think he was looking, and how he secretly enjoyed watching her cheeks flush pink whenever they got into another row.

His grip on Hermione's hand tightened as he thought of all the times he had hurt her. Ragging on her about Victor at the Yule Ball. Making her cry in their first year at Hogwarts, when she overheard him telling Harry she was a bushy-haired know-it-all who didn't have any friends. Seeing her tear-streaked face contort with rage as she sent a flock of angry birds at him. The sound of her broken voice, begging him not to leave her, which he did anyway. And tonight, her blood-curdling screams that tore his heart into a million pieces every time she was cursed. Every time he wasn't able to save her. Every time he wasn't able to take her place….

Ron's thoughts snapped back to the present as Fleur burst through the room, carrying a tray of what appeared to be healing potions.

She tossed a vial to him, and numbly, he caught it. It was a vial of Essence of Dittany, the same thing Hermione had used on him when he had splinched himself.

"Take zis," Fleur instructed, "Start applying it to all of ze cuts."

Ron did as he was told. He started dabbing all of the cuts on Hermione's arm with the Essence of Dittany and watched them heal into faint scars immediately. He moved onto Hermione's left arm and gasped when he saw the word _Mudblood_ carved into her skin. A fresh set of tears streamed down his face as he tenderly started dabbing the medicine on the hideous insult Bellatrix had carved into Hermione's fair skin. As the wound scabbed up, Ron knew that the scar would never disappear, that Hermione would always have a constant reminder of the horrors of not only that night, but of the brutal war they had been fighting for so long.

After he finished applying the Essence of Dittany to all of the cuts he could find, he helped Fleur force a vial of potion down Hermione's throat.

"zis potion weel 'elp ze pain, and ze other weel 'elp wake 'er." She explained.

Ron suddenly heard shouting downstairs. Harry. How could he have forgotten Harry was down there too? A wave of guilt washed over Ron. Fleur stood up.

"I weel go down zere to make sure everything is alright." She handed Ron the other potion vial.

"Wait ten minutes before you give zis to 'er. It weel wake 'er up. Call me when she wakes, and I'll help 'er change into some clean clothes."

Fleur quickly floated toward the bedroom door. And just before she left the room, Ron was finally able to murmur a strangled "Thank you, Fleur."

In response, Fleur gave him a caring look he had never seen before. She flicked her bright eyes between Ron and the unconscious Hermione.

"I know you weel take good care of 'er." Was all she said before heading downstairs to help Harry, Dobby, and Griphook.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As soon as Fleur left the room, Ron's eyes found their way to Hermione's face. Even though she had multiple cuts from the chandelier, and a couple bruises starting to form on her grime-covered face, Ron still thought she looked beautiful. Beautiful. Ron was surprised by his most recent thought. Did he always consider Hermione beautiful? _Of course you did,_ a voice inside him said, _you were just too much of a prat to admit it to yourself._ Ron had to agree; over the years, Ron had not let Hermione's beauty escape him. Nor her smile. Nor her melodious laugh. Nor her kindness she showed towards others, her bravery, her loyalty, her instinct to always fight for what's right; all of these were reasons why he loved her.

Again, Ron startled himself with his thoughts. Did he love Hermione? Ron sighed. Yes, somewhere inside of him, he always knew that he loved her, even loved her more than a best friend. Ron took a hold of Hermione's hand again, and his thumb started tracing circles over her palm. He felt her twitch slightly.

Ron suddenly remembered about the potion he was supposed to give her. He let go of her hand, positioned himself near the head of the bed, and gingerly lifted her so she was sitting upright, with her back against his chest. Ron then unplugged the stopper from the vial and tilted Hermione's chin up so he could pour the purple liquid into her mouth. He heard her faintly swallow, and within a few minutes, her eyes flickered open. Immediately, Hermione lurched away from Ron, and started screaming,

"Leave me alone! Please, it's just a copy! Just a copy!" Ron's heart fell through his stomach as the memories he had tried to suppress from earlier that night came flooding back to him.

"Shhhhh! 'Mione. It's ok, it's me. Ron. Please, Hermione, we're safe now. It's ok, shhh." He too was crying now; he couldn't bear to see her in such agony.

Hermione turned around to face Ron. Her face contorted in pain as the movement reminded her that every inch of her body had been bruised and beaten.

"Ron?" Her chocolate eyes found his cobalt ones.

"It's me. I'm right here." He whispered.

"Ron-"Hermione's raw voice seemed to die away as she was consumed with a sudden rush of tears.

She clutched the front of Ron's bloody jumper and buried her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking from her powerful sobs. Ron didn't know what to do; he could only pull her closer to him and rub soothing circles on her back with his hand. Ron didn't know how long they stayed like this, but it felt like an eternity.

Eventually, Hermione lifted her head to look into his eyes. "Ron-" she began. But Ron interrupted her.

"Don't. Save your voice. It's ok, Hermione, we're safe now." He choked on his tears as he said, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I would have given anything to take your place. I should have been there. I'm so sorry." His last sentence barely came out as a whisper.

"No Ron." Hermione delicately shook her head. "You didn't abandon me. I heard you. Your voice. I could hear it through the walls. I heard you screaming my name. It was what I held onto while she was—while she was—" she couldn't finish her sentence.

Anger flashed through Ron. If he ever saw that pathetic excuse for a witch again, he would kill her. He would kill Bellatrix for hurting the one person he loved more than almost anyone so badly; for causing so much inhumane pain and heartache.

Ron quickly let go of his anger though, as he realized that even though she was trying to hide it, Hermione's position was causing her a great amount of pain. He slowly and carefully took hold of her and held her up while he slid himself off of the bed. Then, he gently lay her down, so she was lying flat on her back as he pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat in it.

The movement caused Hermione to take in a sharp breath of air as dots of light danced before her eyes; she had never been in so much pain in her entire life. After a minute, her eyes began searching for Ron's. His eyes were staring at her left arm.

Curious as to what he was looking at, she summoned up just enough strength to lift her arm in front of her face. As a result, an intense, fire-like pain shot through her nerves. She gritted her teeth and made her eyes focus on the wound on her arm. Then she saw it.

_Mudblood._

Ron saw her eyes begin to fill with fresh tears as she stared at the hideous wound and started to understand the complete meaning of it. Then, very calmly, he took hold of her arm. Her watery eyes looked at him questioningly. He didn't even hesitate. He leaned forward and tenderly placed his lips on the wound, Hermione inhaled sharply, not expecting Ron's affectionate gesture.

"I don't care about this, 'Mione", he said huskily after he lifted his lips from her skin, "you will always be the most beautiful and brave and intelligent person I will ever know." His eyes were glued to hers. For the first time in his life, he wasn't embarrassed to share his feelings with Hermione. Tonight taught him that this war could take any one of their lives at any second, and there was no time to waste in telling the people they loved how much they mean to them.

Hermione let the tears streak down her face as she stared at Ron. Ron, the immature, lanky red-head who made her so infuriated and had broken her heart so many times. Ron-the sweet, funny, caring, loyal, and true Gryffindor she had come to know over the years. This war had made him different—made him stronger. Made him grow up.

Hermione's eyes flickered back to her arm. Somehow it suddenly seemed less unbearable, as if Ron's kiss had made it heal. She sighed. Then in a strangled voice, still raw from screaming, she asked, "What else happened tonight?"

Before Ron could answer, the door to the bedroom flew open. It was Fleur. She impatiently moved a strand of her silky, silvery hair out of her face and looked at Ron and Hermione.

"It's ze 'ouse elf. He is dead."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

" 'arry is burying 'im outside." Fleur continued, "It looks like he was stabbed with a knife. Everyone else seems fine, although ze goblin shattered his legs."

Ron was shocked. The last time he had seen Dobby, the brave house elf had been rescuing all of them. How could he have not noticed Dobby get hurt?

Hermione's sobs returned his attention to her. He leaned closer to her in his chair and took her hand. With his free hand, he gently began stroking her unruly hair.

"Shhh, 'Mione. I know it's hard. He was a brave elf. He saved all of us." She only sobbed harder.

"Why Dobby? Why did he have to go?" she questioned.

Ron didn't have an answer.

"I don't know 'Mione; if there was any creature that deserved to survive this war, it would be Dobby. He had a good heart, and was as brave as anyone." Ron's words seemed to calm Hermione down. There was no way they could bring him back, but they could honor him by remembering him for these great qualities.

"I weel go tend to ze goblin now." Fleur announced as she walked out the door. Ron had almost forgotten she was there.

"I think I need to go help Harry." Ron told Hermione. "He can't do it alone. He needs a friend there with him."

Hermione nodded. She understood. She knew that Harry was probably taking Dobby's death extremely hard. She looked at Ron.

"Go." She said. "I'll be right here waiting for you." He nodded gravely and rose from the chair. He was heading towards the door of the room when he turned around to face Hermione. She was still looking at him.

"I'll be right back." He promised. And he closed the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After the burial, everyone's exhaustion had caught up with them, especially Hermione. Ron basically had to full-on carry her up the stairs to the spare room, where he once again laid her gently on the bed. Hermione, of course being stubbornly tough, had absolutely refused to rest while everyone else went down to Dobby's grave to say a few words.

"Ron, he was always there for me too. It wouldn't be right if I didn't say goodbye." Hermione had told Ron when he had tried to convince her to get some rest after he came back to see her, having just finished digging the grave with Harry.

Ron just looked at her fragile face, which was trying to contort itself into what should have been a stern look. His heart ached to see her in so much pain. Eventually, he gave in.

"Alright then, let's go. But you need to get some rest after, ok?"

She nodded as he helped her get off the bed and, together, they walked down toward the part of the beach where Dobby had been buried. Well, walking was probably more of an understatement, seeing as Hermione was putting almost all of her weight against Ron's strong frame and clutching his torso with all of her strength.

Needless to say, by the time everyone returned to Shell Cottage, they all decided to turn in for the night. After Ron had carried Hermione upstairs and laid her gently on the bed, he wasn't surprised to see that see was already half asleep. Without even thinking about it, he brushed back the hair from her forehead, and lightly kissed her forehead. He saw Hermione half-smile as she finally gave into her exhaustion and fell asleep.

Ron straightened up and started heading out of the room to go to the bedroom he would be sharing with Harry. But right before he reached the door, he turned around to get one last look at Hermione. He had to know that she was safe, or he would never be able to leave her side. His eyes looked at her skinny frame, now dressed in one of Fleur's clean night gowns. And even though her cheeks were hallow and he could see the bags under her eyes, she looked the most at peace than he had seen her in months.

Ron smiled at the sight of Hermione before him. He turned back around and reached the bedroom door.

" 'Night 'Mione." he whispered as he pulled the door closed with a faint 'click'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

After what seemed like minutes after he fell asleep, Ron's eyes flew open as he woke to the sound of a blood-curdling scream. He would know that scream anywhere; it was the same scream that had haunted him every time he had closed his eyes since they had escaped from Malfoy Manor.

He hastily threw off of his covers and tip-toed past the still-sleeping Harry and out of his room. As Ron walked down the hallway to Hermione's room, he could feel the cold of the hardwood seeping into his bare feet. The light sea breeze blowing through all of the open windows throughout the house made him involuntarily shiver; all he had worn to bed were some worn pajama bottoms, and the breeze felt almost icy as it hit his bare, muscular chest.

He finished tip-toeing down the hallway and reached Hermione's door, amazed that no one else had heard her screams. Ron figured they were all probably exhausted, and in too deep of a sleep to hear anything.

He swiftly opened the door and closed it behind him before he rushed across the room to Hermione, who was still screaming and thrashing about in the bed, tangling herself in the white sheets.

Ron placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to keep her still.

" 'Mione! Shhhhh! Hermione, wake up! It's just a dream! Just a dream!"

Hermione's eyes flew open. They immediately focused on Ron's pale, freckled face.

"Ron!" she sobbed, as she flung her arms around him, pulling him so close to her that there wasn't even a centimeter of space between them. He responded my wrapping his strong, bare arms around her torso and squeezing her tightly.

" s'ok, 'Mione. We're safe now, she won't hurt you. I'm here, I'm here." He murmured into her soft hair.

Her shoulders shook as she continued to sob into his chest. Ron felt warm and safe with her pressing up next to him. He couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly they fit together and how _right_ it felt to hold her in his arms. Why did he wait so long to do this? Why had he always hidden his feelings with a snarky comment instead? Hermione's voice brought him back to the present.

"Ron-" she said between snuffles, "will- you-please-stay-with-me? I—I don't' want to have another nightmare. I don't want to remember anything about that night. Please?" she lifted her head slightly to stare into to his eyes pleadingly. Ron had never seen her let herself become so vulnerable before. His heart shattered.

"Of course, 'Mione. I won't leave you. Not again." He let go of Hermione—only for a second though as he lifted the bed covers and crawled in next to her. She cuddled against him, and he wrapped his arms around her instinctively.

For once, he didn't feel awkward holding Hermione. For some reason, being here with her seemed like the easiest thing in the world he could possibly do, and the most right. He kissed the top of her head. She sighed in response; she had calmed down since she first woke up from the nightmare.

"Ron," Hermione began, as she unwrapped one of Ron's hands from around her torso and intertwined it with her own, "Are you scared?"

"I'm bloody terrified." He confessed.

"What do you think is going to happen to us?" she asked. Ron felt his ears starting to turn pink as he thought about all of the things that question could imply.

"I mean-" Hermione clarified, "Do you think we are going to make it through the war?"

Ron stiffened.

"Hermione, look at me." He commanded.

Startled, she lifted her head so she could see his determined expression. It was an expression she had only seen on Ron a few times before, even though she had known him for almost seven years.

"Hermione, listen to me. We _are _going to make it through this war. Don't even think about not surviving. I don't care what happens to us; we will push through and make it to the end. And I sure as hell won't anything happen to you, 'Mione. Not as long as I am breathing. I love you too much to let anything bad happen to you."

She gasped as he finally admitted his feelings. She couldn't believe that he'd finally said that he loved her, not that she didn't want him to of course. She herself had known she was in love with Ron since he had saved her from the mountain troll in first year. She continued to stare into his shining, cobalt eyes.

"I love you too, Ron." She whispered.

Ron then took his hand and cupped Hermione's chin. He leaned slowly forward until his lips met hers. It was unlike anything he had ever known. Her lips were even softer than he thought they would be and she tasted sweet, like….well, Hermione. There was nothing that could compare to the way he felt at that moment. He felt like his heart was soaring. He was finally kissing Hermione Jean Granger, the witch he had been in love with ever since who knows when.

They deepened their kiss and it soon became more passionate. Ron turned so he was fully facing Hermione. She tangled her hands in his flaming red hair and he pulled her even closer than he thought was physically possible. His lips smashed against hers, and she moved her lips with his and groaned in response. Soon, they both realized that they needed to breathe, so their lips broke apart. They both were breathing heavily.

A smile broke out across Hermione's face as she looked at Ron, the no longer lanky red-head, who had grown into such a strong man. He gave her a crooked smile in response. She almost giggled. She loved when he wore that goofy look on his face.

He leaned towards her and kissed her again, this time more tenderly. She leaned into the kiss and could feel his lips smile into hers. They broke apart.

"What?" she asked him, a smile also tugging at her lips.

"Nothing," he said, "I just can't believe this is really happening." His eyes were twinkling.

"I can." She told him as she returned to her old position and cuddled up against his side. He settled in next to her.

Within a few minutes, Ron could hear Hermione breathing steadily, already fast asleep. He kissed the top of her head.

"Love you 'Mione." He whispered to the sleeping witch.

Although they still had an entire war ahead of them, at least for tonight, Ron was sure that everything would work itself out in the end, and that no matter what else happened in the future, there was something Voldemort could never take away from any of them.

Love.

**FIN**


End file.
